Healing Touch
by freedomatthesea
Summary: Set after "The Evil Queen". Regina double crosses Hook and he's found beneath the library, battered and bruised. Emma takes it upon herself to mend the broken pirate.


For a guy who had been hit by a car just shy of a week ago, he was in remarkable condition when they found him. Save for the rope burns on his wrist, the cracked, dry lips, and the sheer look of fatigue on his face when he finally opened his eyes.

"Hey." Emma pressed her lips together tightly, resisting the urge to smile at the pirate as he finally came to.

He groaned in response, lifting his arm – half expecting the resistance of ropes or cuffs – but there was none. He rubbed his face, blinking his eyes rapidly as he cleared away the haze of exhaustion. "What happened?"

The Sheriff canted her head, "We would like to know that answer, actually. How did you end up under the library – in the cave?"

Killian's brows knit together, trying to push back the wave of nausea as he started to sit up – too soon, too fast. "Regina…I was down there with Regina."

"Of course you were." Emma muttered coldly, her heart sinking instantly at those words. Of course he was working for her, they _always_ were. She swallowed her pride when his piercing blue eyes met hers, breath catching in her throat. He looked angry, but not at her.

"I didn't want to work for her." He retorted, his voice cracking as he started to cough, pain streaking through his chest. "I was working for someone else – someone else that I didn't want to be working for."

"Who?" Emma pressed, leaning closer to him on the bed, brows knit together in curiosity.

"I don't know." Killian grimaced, holding his head as pain throbbed near his temple. "There were two of them… The one brought me here in the back of some sort of dark box. I was in there for _days_."

_Tamara._ That was the only answer to the question of 'who'. Emma reached for the glass of water on the bed side table, bringing it to his lips with a tenderness that surprised both of them, "Drink. If you were in there since the day we left-"

"The woman found me not long after you tied me up," He replied dolefully, his eyes falling closed as he savored the cool, refreshing, liquid. "She let me out the night before I worked for Regina."

"_Three days_?" Emma felt sick, for his sake, "You were tied up for three days?"

"You left me there." He turned his gaze from her, "You _left_ me in the storage room."

"Yes, but I-" Didn't have an excuse for that, not at all. "I left your hook with you because I thought you could escape." Emma swallowed thickly. "You sort of showed up while I was having one of the worst days of my life. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"_Obviously_." He snapped, glaring at her, hurt marring his expression. "I could have died."

"You were never going to die." Emma said, with absolute certainty. "That much I know."

Killian flashed her that empty grin of his, the one that was all teeth and forced enthusiasm. "Dead guy of the year right?"

"I went to New York to save your life."

"What?" His eyes widened, the cold grin fading away. "You did what?"

"Gold threatened to kill you if I didn't go with him." Her heart was hammering in her chest now, feeling her breath catch somewhere in the back of her throat. "Then you had to come up there and fuck up my plan."

"Why would you save _me_? After everything I've done."

Emma quieted for a long moment, closing her eyes as she tried to mull through her thoughts and the turmoil within. She took a deep breath, finally able to speak, "I don't give people second chances Hook." She met his eyes, holding his gaze, "But I'm giving you one."

"It's Killian." His eyes fluttered as he looked up at her, "That's my name."

"_Killian_." She said softly, a shiver running up her spine at the look in his eyes – the look that she knew was mutual. "I'm so sorry."

Killian shook his head, grimacing as he reached for her hand, the motion pulling at the muscles that covered his battered ribs. "You don't have to apologize, love. We've both done foolish things… Let's hope that there are no more blunders."

Emma chewed on her bottom lip, nodding at his words. "You should rest."

"She's trying to kill everyone." He started coughing again, cringing in pain, "She's found the beans – she's going to try to take _your_ son and leave."

She tensed, "Thank you for telling me." Those were words that made her feel sick. Losing Henry to _her_. "You rest, I'm going to go talk to my dad."

Killian held her hand a little tighter, not wanting to lose her, not yet. "She did this because I told her not to kill you."

"Me?"

"I guess we're both interested in saving each other from the people who want us dead." The smile on his lips this time was a true smile. The sort of smile that made her heart skip a beat and a smile of her own spread across her lips.

"I guess we are."

"We're not so different. You and I."

Emma laughed, squeezing his hand before releasing it, "I always knew that Killian. Right from the start." She started to get up, but he grabbed her hand again, "You need to rest."

"You risked your life for me." His voice wavered, the exhaustion starting to bleed into his words, eyes heavy. "I did the same, you know. The beanstalk… Cora was going to kill me because I chose you."

"Well, aren't you lucky I picked you? Even if I screwed up a bit along the way." She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his brow. He gasped, not from pain, but surprise. A spark, the tiniest faintest spark tingled against his skin where her lips had brushed.

"Emma?"

She pulled back and looked down at him, confusion knitting her brows together, "It was just an electrical shock." But it didn't feel like the shock you got from walking on carpet with socks and touching someone. No, it was something completely different.

"No it wasn't." Killian sat up, ignoring the pain in his ribs and everywhere else for that matter. He sat upright, his fingers curling behind her neck, drawing her towards him.

"Kil-" Emma started to protest, but his nearness and the magnetic attraction she felt between them, drew her in. She let out a shaky breath, leaning in, letting it be her decision – not his. She leaned in, lips pressing against his. She'd wanted to kiss him once before, frightened by that connection she felt, but now there was nothing to be afraid of.

There was no way to deny the spark there, the pull, the-… It was undeniable, she knew what it was. They both knew.

The kiss was surprisingly passionate for a man with broken ribs and a bruised everything, but he found that the longer the kiss lasted, the better he felt. There was no burn in his chest, no ache in his limbs. He felt _better_.

He wrapped his handless arm around her back, pulling her closer, relishing her warmth against him, warming every inch of the chill he had felt for so long. Her fingers tightened on the front of his shirt, leaning over him as he started to pull them back on the bed.

"_Oh my God_!" The mug that Mary Margaret had been holding fell to the floor, shattering loudly.

Emma jerked away from him so quickly that she misjudged where she was on the bed and tumbled off with a shout of pain. "Dammit… Mary Margaret."

"I-.." Her mother stared at the scene with wide eyes and shock written all over her face. "I'm going to go." Snow flustered for a moment longer, making a little sound of surprise as she looked between the door and her daughter, then the pirate, and back to the door.

The door slammed shut and Emma slowly got up off of the floor, her cheeks flushed red and her hair disheveled. "Well…"

"Indeed." Killian rubbed his face, half-heartedly hiding it in shame. "I certainly know how to make an impression."

Emma's lips were trembling as she sank onto the edge of the bed, "So this means what I think it means, right?"

"_Well_," Killian drawled out as he sat upright, not a single pang of pain in the movement. "You can't deny that that little kiss right there… Healed me." Now he wore that smug grin, eyes hooded, unphased by the interruption that they had had.

"_Really_?" Emma couldn't help but smirk, scooting closer to him, her heart hammering quickly. "Should I check to make sure you're _completely_ healed?"

"Oh yes." The pirate tugged her closer, fingers playing through her hair. "But first, lock the door." His lips ghosted over hers, before he pulled away from her, nodding towards the door. "No more interruptions."

Emma rolled her eyes, hauling herself off of the bed and moving towards the door to lock it. The space gave her a moment to collect her thoughts, to gather her wit. Was she really going to have sex with him? After _everything_? Did it really matter if they'd both wronged each other, when she knew that they were True Loves.

"Are you coming back?" Killian's voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned around to face him, a smug little smirk on her lips. "What's that look for, love?"

"I was just thinking…. How this shouldn't be possible, but apparently it is." She brushed her hair behind her ears as she walked back towards the bed, "Just the other day my parents were showing me the bean field – a way to go home. David was saying how this world had been nothing but cruel to me and how, maybe just maybe, my happy ending was in the Enchanted Forest."

"Where we met." A warm smile spread across his lips then, welcoming her back into his arms as she settled down on the bed beside him. "So you think I'm your happy ending?"

Emma drew her tongue over her bottom lip, her heart hammering in her chest. "I don't think there's anyone else who could be." Her fingers brushed over the scruff on his cheek, marveling at the fact that his bruises were gone, his lips no longer split and chapped. "I'd hoped that it would be you." She smirked, leaning in to kiss him slow, exploring his mouth, tongues tangling with his.

"_Emma_." Killian groaned, his hand going to her hip as she swung her legs over his. She happened to rest right against _him_, heat against heat, separated by layers of fabric. "You're too dressed."

"Likewise." Emma smirked, sitting back, making a concentrated effort to sit _right_ there. She hooked her fingers into the hem of her shirt and tugged it off of her body, throwing it to the floor beside the bed. The moment for hesitancy was gone, especially as she looked down at the ruggedly handsome pirate beneath her and saw an adoration in his eyes that she had _never_ seen in any ones' eyes before – especially not directed at her. Nothing was ever _for_ her. Except him. They were meant for one another.

His fingers skimmed up the curve of her waist, drinking in the sight of her bare skin, his lips parting as he inhaled a sharp breath. "It's a good thing you already took that contraption off of me."

"There would have been far too many buckles to remove like this." Emma retorted, twisting her fingers in his black shirt and dragging it up his chest, jerking it over his arms as he sat up to help her with it.

It had been so long since she had been with someone like this. She'd kissed Graham over a year ago, before that it had been almost year since she'd slept within anyone. Not that she _slept_ with anyone, ever. She always slept alone. But maybe Killian would be the exception.

"This," Killian hooked his thumb into the back of her bra, "Off."

"Can't do it?" Emma smirked, reaching behind her to unhook the bra, discarding it with the rest of the long forgotten clothes. "Is that better?" Her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, dragging her teeth over her own bottom lip as she looked down at him.

"Much." He brushed his fingers along the underside of her breast, chuckling when she shuddered at the touch, her eyes falling closed, lips parted. "What else has been far too rare in your life Emma?" He whispered, breath dancing over her skin as his lips trailed along her collarbone, tongue flicking out against her skin. "Has anyone paid attention to you like this?"

"No." Came her reply as she swallowed thickly, head spinning with the desire that he was expertly winding up inside of her, heat pooling between her legs. His lips dipped lower, joining his fingers as he teased her breasts, making soft moans escape her lips.

In theory they should hate each other, after everything that had happened between them. But they kept being brought together, time and time again. Even being interrupted by her mother – of all people – didn't deter them, even if it should have. Because, right now, in the middle of the emotional upheaval that was Emma's life, she needed an unwavering force. She needed her rock amidst the torrent of waves that threatened to take her under. She needed _him_.

Her fingernails scraped against his scalp, fingers pushing through his thick black hair. It was longer, she noted, than it was when she'd jerked him by it and held a blade to his throat. It was longer, easier to run her fingers through, easier to tug on. "_Killian_." He growled, pulling his head away from her, needing a moment of relief from the torment.

"Yes, love?" He breathed out raggedly, groaning when she rocked her hips into him, either on purpose or unintentionally, it was just another addition to the moment.

"I need you." Emma leaned in and captured his lips, passionate and hard and almost painfully desperate for him. He took the moment to roll them over, his handless arm resting against the bed to hold himself up as he hovered above her.

"That feeling is mutual," Killian smirked, looking down the length of her to eye her pants. "They need to be off."

"Roll off of me for a moment," Emma motioned for him to get off, "You get yours off and I'll get mine off." It was going to be more frustration otherwise – she still had her shoes on and her underwear and gathering from how he had felt, he wasn't one to wear undergarments.

"Good plan." The pirate scooted to the edge of the bed when she did, working at the laces of his pants as he watched her rise from the bed, kick off her shoes and slide her trousers down her hips, before slowly removing the last piece of fabric that would separate them. "Gods above Emma… You're a bloody marvel."

"You sound like you're talking about your ship," Emma smirked, her eyes hooded with desire as she turned to face him, surprisingly not shy about being naked before him. Her hands went to her hips and she canted her head to one side.

"Well, I can certainly say I want to sail you all night long." Killian retorted, his eyes flickering up and down her as she stepped back towards the bed and joined him.

"You're incorrigible." Emma laughed, a true, honest laugh, free from worry or questions. If she was sure of anything, she was sure of this moment. It felt so… natural. So easy.

"You know you like it." He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, his lips quirking at the corners in an effort to keep from smiling at her.

Emma threaded her fingers through his hair, lips close to his, but not quite touching yet. "I suppose I do…But you know what I would really like right now?"

"I hope it's the same thing that I want." The pirate caught her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it. His gaze held hers as he rolled them over - resuming the position he had been in before. Except this time heated flesh rested against heated flesh. Hip to hip. "_Gods_."

Emma let out a quiet moan, mindful that though they had been caught by her mother, she didn't want _anyone _hearing this. Her legs wrapped around his, feet sliding over the backs of his legs. "Killian." She flicked her tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when he rolled his hips forward against her, grinding into her teasingly.

It had been nearly a hundred years since he'd been with someone like this and never before had it felt like _this_. He had thought that Milah had been his True Love, half convinced that he never felt the spark because he had been desensitized to that sort of thing from when he had been in Neverland. But now he knew why. He hadn't felt it because she wasn't the right person – Emma was. _His_ Swan girl.

His hand rested on her hip, knees pressed into the mattress as he rocked forward and took her. One swift moment of sheer intoxicating pleasure. Killian's forehead rested against her shoulder, hips still as he savored the moment. "_Emma_."

Emma's lips pressed together tightly, trying to keep as quiet as possible. She rocked her hips, ever so slightly, gasping when he responded by pulling back and thrusting forward again. Her fingers tugged at his hair, steering his lips back to hers and kissing him to silence a moan.

Everything about the moment was perfect – as perfect as too drastically imperfect, flawed, people could be together. There was an element of healing between them, not just the physical healing that the kiss had brought for him – but spiritual, emotional, mental. They'd both wandered, lost and abused by their worlds, but together they found rest and safety. The found each other. They found someone to cling to when the storms of life come rolling in and threaten to drown them.


End file.
